


Stuck On You

by badboy_fangirl



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: Post S2 AU Linc & Jane ficlet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for a Linc/Jane fan back in the day.

Their skin was stuck together.

That’s what happens when you sweat like crazy and cling together in a storm of emotion.

At least, that’s what Jane thinks as she lays motionless against Lincoln’s chest. She’s almost certain the storm of emotion is only hers, but she can’t move her cheek from his left pectoral without that whole skin-pulling-because-they’re-stuck-together-by-sweat thing happening, so she doesn’t move.

Okay, the reason she doesn’t move is because right here is where she’d been working to get for several months. Months of keeping LJ safe had been interrupted by a desperate phone call from the sweaty man beneath her telling her his brother was in a Panamaian jail that resembled a war zone. Thus ended her domestic role, and the quick replacement of her gun back into the palm of her hand and the plan of How To Get Michael The Hell Out Of There The Sooner The Better had been set into motion.

Several months later, Michael was free, though the turmoil he’d been through showed on his face exquisitely and hurt Lincoln’s heart privately. She had come into this room tonight just to offer him a pep talk. Just to tell him he couldn’t change the past, but they could make sure everything for Michael from now on was better. But she’d come in the room and not said anything because months of tension had only been dispelled by a few stolen kisses here and a frantic grope or two there. And now that there was  _this_  moment, Lincoln hadn’t hesitated any longer. He’d grabbed her and taken her.

And it had been glorious.

Now, his hands move up her back, sweeping her hair aside so it spills across his chest. He murmurs her name softly, questioningly, and she realizes he thinks she must be asleep. Since she hadn’t come in here for this (okay,  _this_  was always at the back of her mind, but honestly it hadn’t been on her mind tonight, because she just wanted to comfort him), the best thing to do would be to play it off, let him think it didn’t mean as much to her as it did, so that he wouldn’t feel guilty about it not meaning that much to him. She knew he still mourned Veronica, and falling into bed had nothing to do with falling in love.

Jane Phillips didn’t even believe in love. Not that sappy, romantic movie notion that blinded people to the reality of the world. She lived in the place where caring for people and giving them what they needed was as close to love as she got, and that was enough. When you were a loner, those moments of sharing were few and far between. Just because LJ first, and then his father, had made her aware that the moments in between were sad and lonesome didn’t mean it  _changed_ anything.

“You asleep?” he asks, his voice rumbling up through his chest into her ear. His heartbeat had slowed, returning to the steady thump-thump that signified the healthy male that he was. The racing, thundering sound of it right after he came had been a bit of a triumph for her. He didn’t know just his presence made her heart do the same. He didn’t know that his fingers between her legs and his tongue against her breast had only served to amplify that thudding beat until she was sure she would die from its racing out of control. She’d thought perhaps it would just beat itself right out of her chest and leave her dead in his arms. Though it had only been a figurative death, she was very much afraid it could still kill her. Whatever happens next might be enough to render her useless forever.

“No,” she says softly, finally peeling her cheek up from his skin. 

When their eyes meet, his crinkle up in a genuine smile. “We might be permanently sealed together, yeah?”

Jane feels her lips tremble in agreement, but the smile sort of flails and falls off her face. “That’s what you get when you…” she wants to say  _make love_  but somehow the words clog in her throat. “When you work up a sweat in the tropics, I guess,” she finishes lamely. Slowly, with his help, she eases off of him, pulling their skins apart gently, avoiding physical pain. She still feels a pang in her chest though, and fights the urge to hug him tightly, keeping them together always.

One of his hands slides up to caress her cheek, cupping her face in his palm while rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip. “You want to stay all night?” he asks, surprising her. “LJ can crash in Mike’s room. He won’t mind.”

Jane’s head dips into the heat of his hand, but she stiffens her neck muscles to prevent an embarrassing cat-like gesture. She has marked him as best she could, but like any animal with feline grace, once was not enough. She wants to keep rubbing against him until he is undeniably hers, and everyone can tell simply by looking at him. “I didn’t…intend for this, Linc,” she replies. “I mean, I’m not sorry, and we’ve sort of been dancing around this for months, and in someway, it’s sort of like the victory dance to all this craziness we’ve been through…” Reaching up, she wraps her fingers around his wrist and disengages herself, sitting up slowly before moving toward the edge of the bed.

“Whoa, wait,” Lincoln says. “Where are you going?” he asks, his arm dropping down and sliding around her hips to pull her back.

“I just think it would be better, you know, not to read more into this than…”  _I love you, okay. I love you, and no matter what bullshit I try to fool myself with I can’t pretend this is less than that for me. So I need to get out of here ASAP_. Jane knows she would never say that aloud, so the fact that it runs through her head like a reader board alarms her greatly. 

“Than what, Jane?” he asks, tugging her right back against him. “If we’ve been building up to this—God knows I’ve wanted you without having you for too damn long—then how do we read more into it than what we should? We both want this, right? What’s more right than that?”

Her heart begins thundering again, and the sound of it in her ears dangerously drowns out the restraint she usually uses to never expose herself too much. She knows she’s about to say something totally revealing, but it’s suddenly impossible to stop the words from tumbling out. “You’re on the rebound, and I’m here…and—“

“I’m on the rebound?” he repeats, his voice filled with humor. She recoils because she doesn’t think she can take him laughing at her. “Rebound from what? If that were true, we would have fucked six months ago when you got off the plane and all I wanted was to pull your pants off. The fact that we didn’t until now tells me I’ve bounced all right…bounced right into where I fit. And you fit. You fit right here.” Deftly turning her so she can’t retreat from him, he slides her underneath him and positions himself between her legs, using his arms to keep distance between their upper bodies so he can look directly into her eyes. His gaze darkens as he searches her face. “Unless you don’t want to fit here. I mean, I might’ve read it all wrong myself—claw marks on my shoulders notwithstanding—if you’re not as sure about this as I am, then…”

Her eyes clinging to his, and her fingers moving up to the shoulders he claims she clawed not so long ago, she asks, “Then, what?”

“Then just say so. I’m pretty simple. Not gonna push,” he says the word  _push_  with just the right amount of gravelly resistance dancing through his vocal chords as he actually pushes his body into hers, joining their sweat-slicked skins back together. “Where I’m not wanted,” he finishes, breathing sharply as her body tightens automatically to hold him as closely as possible. When he maintains an absolute stillness, neither shifting himself nor quite allowing her to move, Jane’s fingers start clawing again in response to the pressure building in her abdomen. “Tell me if I’m not wanted, Jane,” he whispers, dropping his lips to hers, which prevents her from saying anything, really.

Several moments later, as his thrusts grow sharper, harder, wilder, Jane breaks their kiss to gasp his name and her want for him in the same choked whisper of sound. His hands find hers and lace their fingers as his movements carry them both to the place where they fit, together.

 

 

 


End file.
